Shoot flames; but Thor, the fisher good stands nigh,
And threatens Nastrond’s brood with hammer lifted high
When now the giant saw the danger grave,
Thus with himself he reason’d: “I must save
This serpent, for the sake of Jotunheim:
For is it not foretold in mystic rhyme,
At Ragnarok this snake with pois’nous breath
Thor, our arch-enemy, will crush to death?”
The wolf-faced giant, vex’d his bark to lose,
And anxious from the hook the captive snake to loose,